


Freshly-Falling Snow

by Sketchy_Skittles



Category: Inanimate Insanity (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Handholding, Pickle Cheesy OJ Mephone and The Cherries are mentioned, Snow, headcanons, implied knickle, might be ooc sorry about that, post s2 ep14, really its almost all just mic and soap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29891106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketchy_Skittles/pseuds/Sketchy_Skittles
Summary: They looked out at the snow-capped trees and the grasses below it, dusted white.“Y’know, I’ve never actually seen it snow before.”Mic experiences snow for the first time
Relationships: Microphone/Soap (Inanimate Insanity)
Kudos: 11





	Freshly-Falling Snow

**Author's Note:**

> if you want some mood music to go with this you should listen to Ást by Finn MK, mostly cause it's what I was listening to while writing lol. anyways enjoy

Soft winter air poured into the hotel through the window, frigid but not yet biting. The sill on which she leaned her arms began to make her arms sting, though she’d quickly grown to ignore. Instead, she found herself captivated by the world outside her window. Oftentimes she paid it little mind—goodness  _ knows _ she’d seen enough of it during the competition—but rarely did it ever really change. Sure flowers would bloom and die in the fields, and an awful rainstorm would roll by from time to time, but in the end, the grasses and trees would remain green month in and month out, and the same violet sunsets and yellow sunrises would mark the passing of the days. It made for a nice place to live, sure, but seeing the same exact thing every day could get boring after a while.

Which made the current snow a more than welcome sight. Big, fluffy flakes drifting down by the hundreds, spinning in the wind and settling gently on every surface. Occasionally, she’d reach through the small opening in the window and brush what little snow had gathered off the sill. It nipped at her fingers, and what little dregs clung to them melted not long after she pulled them back inside. The wind would sometimes whistle, soft and low, and gentle piano music she’d found fitting for the occasion played on her phone between gusts. She’d been writing in her diary when it began, a green leatherbound book given to her as a birthday gift not long after she was eliminated, and hadn’t returned to it since she’d noticed the change in weather, the current sentence half-finished.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there before the door creaked open. She hardly noticed though, once again swiping at the snow.

“Mic?”

She flinched, breaking out of her wonder and turning to Soap, who stood a few paces behind her.

“Am I interrupting something?” 

“No, you’re fine,” Mic reached blindly for her phone and lowered the music, “I just got distracted. What’s up?”

The muffled voices of the other residence filled in the spaces left behind by the piano. It was almost never quiet in the hotel, after all. 

“They’re putting on a movie downstairs, do you wanna come watch it with us?”

“What movie?”

“I’m not sure”—Soap tapped her chin—”but given that it’s  _ Paper’s  _ turn to choose, probably a drama.” Mic rolled her eyes.

“You’d think he’s got enough drama in his life already.”

Soap chuckled.

“I think I’ll join you guys in a bit.”

“Sounds good.”

She smiled and turned back towards the window. Soap stepped closer, and the piano rose in a crescendo as if to fill the gap in between. 

“I didn’t know you liked piano music.” Soap crossed the threshold to stand beside her, staring out.

“It’s not really my thing, I just thought it’d fit the mood.” 

They looked out at the snow-capped trees and the grasses below it, dusted white.

“Y’know, I’ve never actually seen it snow before.”

Soap turned to her.

“Really?”

“Yeah”, she rubbed the back of her neck, “it was always too warm where I used to live.”

Soap hummed, thinking before replying,

“You should go out there.”

“Into the snow?”

Mic looked to her as she nodded.

“It’s only a flurry, so it won’t be all that bad. Plus, looking out a window just isn’t the same as actually experiencing it.”

She slipped her hand into Mic’s.

“I could even come with you, if you’d like.”

Mic looked between the window, and her hand, and the girl holding it. 

“Ok.”

As per usual, several people were lounging about the common area when they entered from upstairs. Paper crouched on the floor fidgeting with the DVD/VHS player, pausing to wave at them as they passed. Cheesy, the Cherries, and Pickle were crowded onto the couch, with Knife perched on the arm beside Pickle.

(It took her a second to remember the deal OJ and Mephone had made, allowing the contestants to stay in the hotel when it stormed as to avoid anyone getting sick. Those scant few times she only saw Soap between their eliminations. She’d savored them at the time. She could imagine Pickle and Knife felt the same.)

Knife arched a brow as they entered the foyer, Soap opening the closet connected to it.

“Where are you two headed?” He asked

“Just out for a bit,” Soap replied, reaching into a box on the floor and pulling out a red scarf, “We’ll be back soon.”

She passed her the scarf which she took gratefully, fumbling slightly sh she looped it around her neck. 

“Oh!” Paper piped up from his place on the floor, “do you want us to wait up for you?”

Soap turned to Mic, shrugging, a light blue scarf in her hands as she shut the door. 

“Nah, that’s alright, you can start without us!” Mic called back as Soap put on her scarf. 

Vaguely she heard Knife chuckle, and she chose to ignore the look she knew he and Pickle were sharing over it as they approached the door. Instead, they stepped outside, closing them off from their knowing teasing as Mic clicked the door shut behind them.

The path leading up to the hotel, much like everything else, was coated in a thin layer of snow, no more than a few inches deep. It had yet to be shoveled, with footprints, likely from the contestants and Mephone’s if she had to guess, dotted the otherwise pristine layer, slowly vanishing beneath newer flakes that worked to make it whole. Pale puffs of air drifted out from between her lips as she breathed, carried up into the distance and vanishing from view. The awing kept the snow off their heads and the ground beneath their feet clear, though a breeze still drifted lazily around them. Mic clutched her scarf in her left hand, tightening it against the cold. 

“Well?”

She turned to Soap, who smiled at her slightly, face already growing rosy. Hand in hand, they stepped into the snow, newly-carved footprints joining the fading ones already pressed into the snow.

The first thing Mic realized upon stepping out from beneath the awing was that, in the midst of their shuffling about and conversations, she’d never actually switched out of the thin slippers she, like many of the other residents, wore around the hotel. They didn’t hold up well at all against water, or snow, in this case, leading her to her second observation: snow was not, in fact, very pleasant to stand on practically barefoot. It bit and stung her feet, and the only thing keeping her from jumping back beneath the awing, or back inside all together, was the sight of it all. She’d flinched at the sudden cold, Soap chuckling slightly, before releasing her hand and venturing out several steps further into the flurry. 

Somehow everything was both still and in motion. All around her, both heavy clumps and tiny flakes drifted down, catching in the winter winds and swirling around her, playful yet slow, an improvised dance between herself and the world. Some settled onto her grille, sending slight shivers down her spine, and others speckled the cozy fabric of her scarf, popping against the scarlet red. Her breaths, humid little clouds from between her lips, pushed some off their trail and back by no more than inches, leaving them in seemingly an entirely new surrounding, much in the same way the snow had done for her. It was silent save for the winds and the occasional rustle of the trees. She reached out a hand, opening her palm to the sky with a slow unscripted certainty, a star unveiling itself to its still-forming galaxy over centuries. A single flake landed within it. Against the dark of her hand, she could see the many points and lines and swirls that made up it’s shape before it melted, unique from the one that followed, and from the one after that. 

Turning, she caught how the hotel lights cast warm colours across the snow, a stark contrast to the cool, dim colours cast by the clouded late-day sky. She beamed.

Looking to Soap, she found her watching the snowfall as well, some of it having settled in a thin layer on top of her pump. The hotel lights painted golden highlights at her edges like an outline, lighting her blushing face and the way her eyes seemed to glow. Her scarf was pulled up just beneath her lips, a single hand grasping it, and she seemed to study individual flakes as they made their descent towards the ground. A faint smile traced her face. Mic’s heart fluttered. 

Their eyes met eventually, at which point Soap grinned at her fully. Mic approached and brushed the small pile of snow off of Soap’s head. It fell to the ground before they giggled lightly. 

“What do you think? It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Mic took her hand, squeezing it gently, warm together against the cold as they watched the snow drift lazily around them.

“Yeah, it is pretty nice.”

**Author's Note:**

> im gay and it was snowing what else did you expect really  
> thanks for reading!


End file.
